


Mirrors Year Two

by RavensFlight



Series: Mirrors [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Everything is still a spoiler, Gen, Good Tom Riddle, Grey Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Shadow is done pretending, WARNINGS APPLY, buuut its a spoiler, for like chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-11-19 16:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18138155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavensFlight/pseuds/RavensFlight
Summary: Book 2 in the Mirrors series.Voldemort wasn't the villain they said he was. The Potters weren't the victims they said they were. That fateful Halloween night didn't go the way they said it did. It's quite amazing how many lies were told. Of course, Harry didn't believe a single one.It feels like filler, but it is important.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry caught the Knightbus to Diagon alley, and decided to take a look at the shops in Knockturn. He made his way into Borgin & Burkes first, browsing through the wide array of items on display. He brushed his hand along a full length mirror, and smiled when an excited Shadow stepped out.

He was looking at a particularly expensive amulet seated on a velvet cushion, when he heard the doorbell clang and Draco stepped into the shop. He was going about to go up to meet him, when a man followed behind.

He had Draco's pointed face and grey eyes. Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy's father and a death eater. He eyed the shelves lazily and drawled out a command for Draco.  
“Touch nothing” Draco turned to his father and scowled.  
“I thought you were going to buy me a present.”  
“I promised to buy you a racing broom.”

“What’s the good of that if I’m not in the house team?” said Malfoy, looking sulky.  
_‘Aww, he's jealous. This year will be different though_.’  
“Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He’s not even that good, it’s just because he’s famous … famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead …”  
_‘Is he badmouthing me? And lying to his father_?’

Malfoy bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls.  
“… everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick –”  
“You have told me this at least a dozen times already.” Said Mr Malfoy, with a quelling look at his son,  
“Really? How rude, Draco! And I was just beginning to like you.” Shadow walked up to the Malfoy's shaking her head and tsking. “And after poor Harry was kind enough to gift you his broom!” Draco couldn't resist laughing.

“He only gave me his broom to get out of Quidditch! But what are you doing here? I assume Harry is around somewhere.”  
“We're meeting up with the twins later today, and thought we'd come browse for a bit, see if anything catches our fancy.”

Mr Malfoy looked extremely suspicious.  
“Draco, who is this?” Draco, suddenly remembering his dad, blanched. He glared at Hermione and turned to his dad.  
“Um, father, this is Hermione… she's a student at Hogwarts, and friends with Harry Potter.” A single one of Mr Malfoy's eyebrows rose.  
“You seem to know her well. Why haven't I heard about her?”  
“Well Mr Malfoy, I'd say it's cos I'm registered as a muggleborn, I'm friends with Harry, and I'm a Gryffindor. Your family ain't too keen on us.”  
“Oh Hermione, that's cute and all, but I just think that Draco doesn't like you enough to tell his family.” Harry approached the trio, hands in his pockets.

“What bollocks! Draco thinks I'm awesome, don't you Dracey Wacey?” Draco closed his eyes and sighed in defeat.  
“Please don't ever call me that again.” Mr Malfoy looked like stone.  
“I think you should explain.” Draco grimaced.  
“I will, later.”  
“Meet us at Gringotts, that's where we're meeting the twins.” Harry and Hermione waved to the Malfoy's and left, leaving a pale son standing next to his expressionless father.

* * *

 

“Lo Harry!”  
“Lo Hermione!” The twins called out loudly, waving and smiling.  
“Hello boys! Hope you don't mind, Draco will be joining us for a little while.”  
“Oh? Draco's here? Where'd ya find him?”  
“He was shopping with his dad in Knockturn.” The twins expressions turned to shock and awe.  
“You guys got to go down Knockturn?”  
“Wicked! We're never allowed down there.”

They all chatted for a while, waiting for Draco to show up. When he finally showed up with his father who was still expressionless, the twins mobbed him.  
“Hello Draco! You're looking wonderful!”  
“That you are! We were wondering, dear friend,”  
“There are some things we can only get from Knockturn,”  
“but alas, we aren't allowed down there,”  
“so we hoped you would be able to get us some?”  
“pretty please Draco, we promise not to prank Snape for at least three weeks.”  
“three weeks, brother!? We only agreed on two!”  
“desperate times call for desperate measures.”

They turned to Draco and spoke in chorus.  
“So, how about it?” Draco grinned genuinely.  
“No way. You don't prank Professor Snape anyway. If I agree to this I'm liable to wake up as a bird.”  
“No need to fear, Draco!”  
“the only thing we have that can turn you into a bird must be eaten!” before Draco could carry on with his banter, his father interrupted.

“I would like to make sure I understand. You four have become friends with Draco?”  
“We have.” Harry spoke this time. “You will hear from other students that we adamantly hate each other, but all our arguments and insults are in good fun. The only student we really dislike is Ronald Weasley.”  
Mr Malfoy shot a look at the twins who were nodding in agreement.

“Is that right.” It wasn't a question.  
“It is, Mr Malfoy sir. He's gotten really insufferable lately.”  
“We've tried talking to our parents, but Dad is totally oblivious, and Mum's proud of him.”  
“He told Professor McGonagall that Harry, Hagrid, and Hermione had a dragon!”  
“Well, to be fair we did kind of have a dragon.” Hermione looked sort of smug.  
“Imagine if we'd had a Basilisk!”

The twins grinned.  
“We know that tone! I don't think we'll need to imagine.” despite Draco's earlier explanation, Mr Malfoy's eyes conveyed his confusion. Harry could only smile.  
_‘I wasn't kidding about a Basilisk, you know. They're really easy to breed, and we already have a dragon and a cerberus. What's another dangerous creature_?’

The group of five headed off to Flourish & Blotts to pick up their new books, most of which were written by Gilderoy Lockhart. While Harry, Hermione, Draco, and the twins all laughed and chatted, Mr Malfoy trailed behind, obviously wanting to keep an eye on them.

When they finally made it to the store, they found it surrounded by a massive mob of people. A large banner spread across the front of Flourish & Blotts proclaimed a book signing by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Hermione turned to the group and smiled sweetly.  
“So who wants to be the sacrificial lamb?”  
“We aren't going in there.” The twins looked stubborn. Harry walked up to Hermione, put his hands on her shoulders, turned her around, and gave her a little push.  
“Go ahead.”  
Hermione scowled, grabbed Harry's hand and started dragging him with her.

They tried to push their way inside, but only drew Lockharts attention. He leapt to his feet and shouted  
“That can't be harry Potter?” the crowd parted, whispering excitedly. Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry’s arm and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause.

Harry smiled charmingly as Lockhart shook his hand. The photographer clicked away frantically, knowing the opportunity he was getting.

“Wonderful Harry,” said Lockhart, through his blinding teeth. “together, you and I are worth the front page.” Harry's smile turned slightly cunning as he spoke loudly.  
“It's really wonderful to meet you, Mr Lockhart, sir! I've read all of your books, and I think they're wonderful! Did you really do all those amazing things?”  
“Of course, Harry! Of course!” at this, the crowd applauded even louder.

When he finally let go of Harry’s hand, Harry could hardly feel his fingers. He tried to sidle away, but Lockhart threw an arm around his shoulders and clamped him tightly to his side.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said loudly, waving for quiet. “What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography – which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge –” the crowd applauded again, especially taken by Harry's simpering look

“– he had no idea,” Lockhart continued, giving Harry a little shake that made his glasses slip to the end of his nose, “that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his school fellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that, this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, Harry made his way outside.

Unfortunately, as soon as he and a hysterically laughing Hermione got back to their group, they were approached by the Weasel. Hermione's laugh turned to a giggle, and Harry decided to sit back and watch.  
“Oooh hello little Weasel! Come to get your nose busted again? I'm sorry, I've moved on from that. I've decided to start aiming lower.”

“Don't sound so confident, Granger! You're just a filthy mudblood hanging out with the strongest people she could find. How many of then are you screwing?”  
Hermione's laugh increased in volume, and she spoke in a sing-song voice.  
“Little muggle-lover said the M-word! Is that why you're considered a ‘blood traitor’? Can't even stick to your own values.” she tsked.  
“And implying that Mr Malfoy is unfaithful? Placing your father in some very hot water there!”

It didn't take long for the rest of the Weasley family to show up, and the fight escalated. Harry finally got to meet Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, and Ginny Weasley. The first impressions they made weren't good.

Mr Weasley immediately became openly hostile, and Mrs Weasley egged him on. Ginny Weasley, just stared at Harry, blushing. It eventually took Hagrid to break up the fight, and they all parted ways, but not before Harry spotted Mr Malfoy slipping a book into Ginny's cauldron.


	2. Chapter 2

After the sorting, they headed off to the ‘come-and-go room’ to check on Norbert, and Fluffy. Hagrid met them at the door of the hall.

“‘Arry! Hermione! On yer way to “the room”?” He said the last bit in a conspiring whisper.

“That we are! You gonna come?”

“Course! I never thanked ye fer letting me use yer room! It's perfect!”

“Aww, that's OK Hagrid. We get something out of it too… I get to basically own a dragon and a cerberus!”

Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid stepped inside the come and go room, again marvelling at the size of it.

Hagrid led them over to a small flat area on the mountain. Harry and Hermione looked up when they heard the massive thumps of bearing wings. In a moment, Norbert was perched in front of them, head dropped to eye level. He had grown insanely large, more than twice as large as Hagrid's hut, and had learned to speak in some heavily accented Parseltongue. Hagrid gave him a stroke on the nose and fed him something from his pocket.

“Ye can pat ‘er if ye want. She's gotten real friendly as of late.”

“Her? Norbert is female?”

“Tha’s righ’ ‘Arry. Guess those Weasley friends of yours can be real persuasive. Their brother sent over a dragon expert to look ‘im over, and turns out Norbert was actually a Norberta! Expert didn' even question why we 'ad a dragon.”

Hermione patted Norberta, tracing her scales. Norberta gave her a nudge with her head.

‘ _Food_?’ needing no translation, Hermione laughed and hugged her.

* * *

They spent the next half an hour or so, talking with Hagrid, and ‘getting to know’ Fluffy and Norberta. They were pleased to learn that Norberta was extremely happy with the Habitat, and didn't want to leave. Eventually, it was time for them to head to bed.

* * *

 After breakfast the next day, they headed towards the greenhouses for Herbology. Harry and Hermione got to work repotting Mandrakes, while Justin Finch-Fletchley, a hufflepuff student, chatted to them everytime the earmuffs were off. They learned that he was down for Eton College before he came to Hogwarts, and he was a fan of Lockhart's.

Later that day, they had the dreaded DADA. On his way to the class, he was approached by Colin Creevey, a first year Gryffindor. He wanted a photo.

“A picture?” Harry repeated blankly.

“So I can prove I’ve met you,” said Creevey eagerly, edging further forwards. “I know all about you. Everyone’s told me. About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you’ve still got a lightning scar on your forehead,;and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures’ll move.”

Creevey drew a great shuddering breath of excitement and said,

“It’s brilliant here, isn’t it? I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad’s a milkman, he couldn’t believe it either. So I’m taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it’d be really good if I had one of you –” he looked imploringly at Harry,

“– maybe your friend could take it and I could stand next to you? And then, could you sign it?”

“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos, Potter?” Draco's amused voice came from behind them.

“Signed photos? Who's giving out signed photos? Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Harry!” Lockhart pulled him against his side, his arm over his shoulders. Harry felt his throat close. Maybe it was just his unfamiliarity with physical contact, but Lockhart made him extremely uncomfortable.

“Come on then, Mr Creevey,” said Lockhart, beaming at Colin. “A double portrait, can’t say fairer than that, and we’ll both sign it for you.” Colin fumbled for his camera and took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signalling the start of afternoon classes. “Off you go, move along there, dears.” Lockhart called to the crowd, and he set off back to the castle with Harry still clutched to his side.

Going to the DADA classroom, Lockhart started talking about fame and how Harry was making himself seem a little big headed, but it was entirely Lockhart's fault for getting him “bit by the fame bug”. Harry could have collapsed in relief when Hermione came up behind them and forcibly separated the two, grabbing Harry by the hand and glaring at Lockhart.

The rest of the class filed in behind them, and Lockhart introduced himself.

“Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award – but I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!” He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly.

“I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books – well done. I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about – just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken in…” When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said,

“You have thirty minutes. Start – now!” Harry looked down at his paper and read:

1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favourite colour?

2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?

3\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:

54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart’s birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?

 _‘It seems this year will be even worse than the last_.’

 _‘It's gonna be easy, but so fucking infuriating_.’ playing up his fan boy role (which he now regretted immensely) Harry started answering all the questions properly. He could hear Hermione's thoughts, however, and they weren't so appropriate.

Eventually Lockhart collected up all the tests, and started going through them.

“Tut, tut – hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with a Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully – I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples – though I wouldn’t say no to a large bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky!”

He gave them another roguish wink. Almost every boy in the class was either staring in disbelief, or shaking with silent laughter.

“… but my dear Harry knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions in fact –” he flipped his paper over, “Full marks! Wonderful Harry! Twenty points to Gryffindor!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't know how much I hate this book. Mirrors is my favourite of all the fics I'm writing (though everyone seems to like Bolt more) so having a fic turn out so poorly hurts. There are massive things I've got planned but they don't start until goblet of fire, and everything I write turns out shite. It's honestly super discouraging, but I really need to get to GoF.

After the quiz, Lockhart's next move was to release an entire swarm of Cornish Pixies, then leave them to the rest of the class to clean up, after his spell to stop them failed to do anything at all.

“Can you believe this? I want Fake Voldemort back. He was a better teacher than this loon. I hope you have a really good reason for kissing his ass, because I really wouldn't be able to handle it if you don't.”

“To play him up, so when he falls, he falls far. He's already lied straight to my face in front of reporters. All it takes it for the-boy-who-lived to act betrayed, and then the press will swarm him more than ever.”

“...fuck man, I didn't even think of that. Keep up the good work.”

* * *

 After that disaster of a class, Harry avoided Lockhart as much as possible. Sucking up to him with no one else around was useless, and he would rather not spend more time in the man's presence than really necessary. Colin Creevey was also playing the part of a nuisance, basically stalking Harry. His only respite was when he would sneak into the Habitat (the ‘Come and go’ rooms new name) and talk with Draco, the twins, and Neville.

One morning, Harry was woken by Oliver Wood. He was told that it was Quidditch practice, despite being unbelievably early in the morning. He got up anyway, grabbing Hermione and dragging her with him to the pitch. He normally wouldn't attend, but this time would be a little different. Unfortunately, Creevey was also awake. Harry found himself staring at a photograph of himself simpering up at the Professor.

“Will you sign it?” said Colin eagerly.

“No,” said Harry flatly.

“Sorry Colin, but Harry really needs to go practice for Quidditch.” Hermione gave the boy her best winning smile.

“Oh wow! Wait for me! I’ve never watched a Quidditch game before!” Colin scrambled through the hole after him.

“It’ll be really boring,” Harry told him quickly, but Colin ignored him, his face shining with excitement.

“You were the youngest house player in a hundred years, weren’t you, Harry? Weren’t you?” said Colin, trotting alongside him. “You must be brilliant. I’ve never flown. Is it easy?”

Harry didn’t know how to get rid of him, without making himself the villain. It was like having an extremely talkative shadow.

“I don’t really understand Quidditch,” said Colin breathlessly. “Is it true there are four balls? And two of them fly round trying to knock people off their brooms?”

“Yes.”

“It's really a stupid game. Did you know, the Snitch wasn't originally part of the game? Then some king released a Snidget, it's like a little gold bird, and offered 150 galleons to whoever could catch it. It ended up becoming part of the game every time it was played, then they replaced the Snidget with a Snitch, because so many Snidgets ended up dying. They're now an endangered species.” Creevey looked a little unnerved.

“Oh.” eventually, they made it to the pitch. Creevey ran off to get a good seat, and Harry went to meet the team in the changing rooms. Wood gave a massive speech that none of the tired team seemed to be listening to.

They got into the practice, Creevey clicking sway with his camera, and Hermione lying down in the middle of the pitch.

“Who's that?” asked Fred

“Colin Creevey, a first year Gryffindor.”

“I haven't seen him around. Are you sure?”

“Yes, he just stalks me all the time, so unless I'm around he won't be.”

“I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy.”

“He's really just an annoying kid, Wood.”

“The Slytherins don't need a spy, either.” George piped up.

“What? Why?”

“Because they're here in person.” Harry found himself smiling at Fred's words. Sure enough, the green robed Quidditch team was making their way onto the pitch, brooms in hand.

“I can't believe this! I booked the pitch for today!” Wood hissed, flying down to confront the Slytherins.

Harry, Fred and George followed, and Hermione trotted over.

“Flint!” Wood bellowed at the Slytherin captain. “This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!”

“Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.”

“But I booked the pitch!’ said Wood, positively spitting with rage. “I booked it!”

“Ah,” said Flint, “but I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape.

_I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practise today on the Quidditch pitch, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.’_

“You’ve got a new Seeker?” said Wood, distracted. “Where?” Draco stepped out from behind Flint, two brooms in hand. He walked up to Harry and held one out.

“Thanks for lending me your Nimbus Two Thousand, Harry. Without it I wouldn't have been able to practice enough to get on the team.” Harry took back his broom.

“It's no trouble at all, Draco. It's good to see you got in, I hope you'll come practice with me some time.”

“Sure.” Harry's team was watching with barely concealed rage. Only Fred and George didn't look murderous.

“You lent a Slytherin your broom!? Why!?” Wood sounded apoplectic.

“He's my friend, he didn't have a broom because first years aren't allowed then, and _I wasn't going to be playing_.” Harry narrowed his eyes accusingly. He released his expression and turned to Draco.

“I see you have a new broom. Nimbus Two Thousand and One?”

“Yup, my dad bought enough for the entire team.”

“You're going to be tricky to beat this year. I look forward to playing.”

Despite Harry's infuriated team members, things were relatively civil, until Creevey came over.

“So you bought your way in, did you? No wonder you're in Slytherin.” Harry choked on his saliva, and Hermione started laughing.

Draco looked stunned.

“Who are you?”

“I'm Colin Creevey. I'm Harry's photographer.”

“Since when?” Hermione sounded incredulous. Harry just rested his face in his hands and sighed.

“Creevey, you aren't my photographer. I don't like people taking photos of me, okay?” Harry hoped that Creevey would realise how uncomfortable he was making him. He didn't.

Creevey foolishly whipped out his wand and tried to curse Draco. They found out the effects of the curse when Shadow stepped in front of Draco. Creevey doubled over, and started spewing slugs. Everyone looked stunned, but quickly recovered when Professor Lockhart showed up, coming from the direction of Hagrid's hut.

“Professor, Creevey's spell backfired. Could you undo it?” Wood had done a 180 from suspecting Creevey of being a spy.

“Of course, of course! Just give me a minute!” The Professor grinned. He pointed his wand at Creevey and muttered under his breath.

 _‘There is no way he'll be able to undo this… he's going to make it a million times worse_.’ Shadows inner voice was half way to giggling.

Sure enough, the curse got worse and slugs started coming too fast for Creevey to catch his breath. He looked near to passing out.

“I'll take him to the hospital wing. Detentions, all of you!” every student on the pitch stared at Lockhart as he lead Creevey away.

“What?” Everyone was stunned.

 _‘That lazy bum! Wood just said that it was a backfired spell! What the hell_?’

Harry sighed.

“I know Professor Snape is probably going to let all you Slytherins off, but McGonagall isn't exactly the most sane teacher. We're all going to be serving Detentions.”

* * *

Both teams had headed back to the hall together, United in their anger against Lockhart. The moment they stepped foot into the Great Hall, Snape and McGonagall were standing in front of them.

“Miss Bell, Mr Weasleys, Miss Spinnet, Miss Johnson, and you, Mr Wood, will all be polishing trophies with Mr Filch. Without magic.” The six of them groaned.

“But Professor-”

“No excuses. Mr Potter, you will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail.” there was a collective flinch from all of them. “He asked for you specifically. Eight o’clock sharp, all of you.” McGonagall stalked off, face set.

Everyone turned to Snape, wanting to know what was going to happen to the Slytherins.

“What happened?” Flint let out a massive breath at Snape's question.

“The first years spell backfired. No one else even had their wands.”

“None of you will be serving detention. Obviously Professor Lockhart was… hasty in his decision making.” Harry could tell Snape was irritated.

Draco turned to Harry

“I'm really sorry, we can't do anything about Professor McGonagall.”

“It's fine. We knew she wasn't a particularly trustworthy teacher.”

 _'She totally forgot about me! She didn't give me detention! Not sure whether to be offended or thankful_...'


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS APPLY

Eight o'clock came way too fast for Harry. He arrived at Lockhart's office and knocked, Hermione sitting in his head.

“Ah, there you are, Harry! Come in, come in! I was just about to have some tea, would you like some?”

“Thanks, Professor.”

Lockhart poured some tea into a cup, and passed it to Harry, who started to drink. He then poured his own and sat down.

“Take a seat Harry. This isn't really a detention, I just wanted to talk, and you're a difficult boy to find. I wanted to make sure you weren't feeling overwhelmed. I know what it's like, being a big face, everyone watching your every move.” He took a sip from his cup, and Harry did likewise. He sounded genuine.

“It's ok, Professor, I have a lot of friends, and the press can't get here.” He drank some more tea.

“That's good, that's good. You know, I'll be here, willing to talk if you ever need it. I do care.” They sat in silence for a while, just drinking their tea, before Lockhart stood.

“Thank you Professrrr-” Harry tried to stand as well, but felt dizzy. His words slurred. He felt himself tipping sideways, and Lockhart took a hold of him, whispering nonsense in his ear.

 _‘Fucker drugged the tea! Harry_!’

Harry thought he could feel Shadow pushing him away and take over, but he couldn't tell. He felt so tired. He gave in to sleep. Damn Wood, making him wake up so early.

* * *

 Harry woke up, curled in his bed. His head was pounding and his mouth felt dry. He sat up, reaching for his glasses.

‘ _Shadow_?’ he felt Her stir in his mind, from behind a heavily locked door. He pressed against the door, and felt pure, devastating rage pulse through it. He took a mental step back, and added more “locks”. He pushed himself up from his bed and stumbled to the showers.

* * *

 Harry lay in the shower for a long time, just letting the water rush over him. Despite the warm water, he shivered. He thought of his options. He'd never been in this situation before. When his relatives abused him, he didn't really care. It would be too much of a hassle to get them in trouble, what with the blood wards and Dumbledore placing him there, and it gave him extra leverage against them for later. Now he was dealing with someone that probably hurt others, and had possibly hurt him and Shadow.

Eventually, he turned off the shower and lay on his bed. He closed his eyes and focused on the mindscape he shared with Shadow. He pulled himself into it, creating a massive dome around him and the “door” Shadow was behind, closing it tight. He wouldn't wake for a long time; nothing could get past that barrier. He unlocked the door, and let out Shadow.

She came out in a massive burst of black smoke, tearing through the door and wall separating them.

“HE TRIED TO HURT YOU! I'LL KILL HIM! I'LL FUCKING RIP HIM APART PIECE BY PIEC-”

Harry let her rant and rave, feeling her smash against the barrier over and over again. She screamed and howled, her thoughts a jumble of anger and hate. Flickers of fantasies popped in and out of view, as Shadow imagined Lockhart being dismembered, burned, crucio-ed, skinned, drowned, and many other painful methods.

Eventually she calmed.

“He tried to hurt you, and I couldn't do anything! You were asleep! I could only run…” Shadow sobbed, her black smoke forming a loose figure.

“Did he manage to hurt us?”

“N-no, I kicked h-him.” she hiccuped “he was swearing w-when I ran. He d-did ‘Obliviate’ us though.” Harry hugged her.

“You got a good kick in, and we can report him. He'll go to Azkaban or get the Kiss. You've heard what the Dementors do to people.”

* * *

 When Harry came out of his Mindscape, he woke in the Infirmary. He was sitting up when Madam Pomfrey came into the room.

“You're awake! You stay right there, I'll go get Professor McGonagall, she'll want to know you're up.”

Madam Pomfrey soon returned with Professor McGonagall in tow.

“What happened?”

“Well Mr Potter, we aren't entirely sure, but the St Mungo's healer we called in believes that a student gave you a sleeping potion as a prank, but you had a sort of allergic reaction. You fell asleep and wouldn't wake up. You were also suffering from magical exhaustion, so we think that your magic tried to fight off the allergic reaction and you went into a coma.”

McGonagall said it bluntly, but Harry could see the tears in her eyes.

“Wait, what's the date?” she hesitated a moment.

“October 30th.”

 _‘October 30th? We lost seven weeks_!’

“Can you tell my friends that I'm awake? I don't want them worrying any longer.”

“Of course, I'll go find them now, but… Hermione Granger hasn't been seen since you went into a coma.”

 _‘Aw shit, how do I explain that_?’

* * *

 ”Harry!” there was a chorus of voices, as four students crashed through the doorway and into the room, Harry flinching. Fred and George practically threw themselves onto his bed, Neville stood next to him, looking relieved, and Draco placed himself behind them arms crossed.

“What happened?”

“McGonagall told us it was a prank.”

“But it wasn't us.”

“And no one would own up.”

“I'll explain later, at the Habitat, okay? Right now I just want to get out of here and “hunt down” Hermione.”

“Habitat?”

* * *

 It took a lot to convince Madam Pomfrey that he was OK; she wanted to keep him in the hospital wing for a few more days. Finally, she let him out.

He watched Fred and George as they entered the Habitat for the first time.

“I didn't know it could make something so big.”

“Why did you need mountains?” Fred's answer came in the form of a massive roar. The twins froze.

“This is where you kept your dragon?”

“We thought you put it in the Forest!”

“Harry, why aren't we looking for Hermione?” Neville cut off the twins.

 “There's no reason to. I'm not going to go into the details, you don't need to know them, but Hermione isn't real.” He got the blank looks he was expecting.

 “Harry… Hermione is real. Are you okay, do you need to go back to the Infirmary?” Draco looked concerned.

“I'm fine. Look Hermione isn't real. There's no such person called “Hermione Granger”. You can think of Hermione as… my imaginary friend. Just pretend she was my imaginary friend given form by accidental magic. It's not strictly true, but it's probably easy enough to understand.”

“Harry, that makes no sense! If Hermione wasn't real, then how does she eat, drink, talk, do magic, and all those other things?” Neville sounded exasperated

“Magic.” again, blank looks, this time telling him to ‘cut the crap’.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A yes, it's officially one of my LEAST FAVOURITE CHAPTERS. As you might be able to tell, this part of the series is bad. And by the looks of it so far, so will PoA. I did wake up to two comments though, and I was floating on air for the rest of the day. It all cancels out.

“Look, Fred, George, the Weasley Wavelength. That's a bond formed between twins. Hermione and I have the same bond, but everyone knows Lily only gave birth to a single child. How do you explain that?”

“We don't.”

“We just assumed you did some kind of ritual.”

_‘Harry, this is going nowhere. You have any idea how crazy you look at the moment?’_

_‘You try then_.’

“Okay, so, my name, is Shadow. It ain't Hermione, that's just a random name we picked. Well so is Shadow, but thats different. Me and Harry, we're like best friends since childhood. Let's say I'm his imaginary friend, that he managed to give form to. I am real, but I didn't used to be. Didn't used to be? That's not English. Is it?”

Everyone's mouths were hanging opening shock. “But- but- I don't understand! That doesn't make sense!” Draco sounded irritated.

“Gah, I need a mirror.” Harry/Shadow turned.

“Perfect. Thanks, room.” They brushed their hand against the mirror, and out of it stepped Hermione.

“Sup.”

* * *

 “I got a new wand, you know. While you were asleep. Cherry wood and unicorn hair, thirteen inches.” They had been sitting in the room for maybe half an hour, just soaking in the fact that Hermione wasn’t real, and that Lockhart was more than just a fake (there had been a lot of yelling when they revealed that) before Neville spoke up.

“I'm glad. Are your spells doing better?”

“Well, they still aren't good, but now in the opposite way. I don't know how to control my strength; I'm just too used to my father's wand.”

“You'll get better with practice. I'm glad you listened to me.”

“He's even doing better at potions. We were a pair, and after class Professor Snape asked me if I had done all of the work, because the potion had turned out so well.” They sat in since for a few more minutes. It was turning out to be be a busy year.

“Father sent me a letter.”

 _‘I guess it's the day of confessions_.’

“What did he say? He's not too upset with you, is he? I didn't mean for it to go that way, I wasn't thinking.” she looked embarrassed.

“He's not upset at all. He says that he was definitely shocked, but it's good that I'm getting more friends. He wants to know if any of you want to visit sometime. He'll probably insist when I ask him to look into Lockhart.”

“My relatives probably won't allow it, but tell him thanks for invitation anyway. I appreciate it.”

“I don't go anywhere without Harry. Sorry.”

“Go to the Malfoy Manor?”

“We couldn't say no!”

“Gran will be happy for me to go. She says I don't socialise enough.” another five minutes passed.

“We should probably go ‘Find’ ‘Hermione’ now.”

“Yeah.” Everyone pushed themselves up and left.

* * *

 “Miss Granger! Where were you? We searched for weeks!” McGonagall sounded furious.

“I'm sorry, Professor, I don't… I don't know. I went to research magical comas but then… nothing.”

“I found her lying in the library. She seems okay.”

“Of course… well, this sort of thing happens sometimes. We've had people go missing then turn up on the other side of the world months later, so we're fortunate it wasn't worse.” it seemed as soon as she found out that Hermione was okay, she lost interest.

_‘That went a million times better than I had even hoped. We should totally disappear more often, it's not like the staff will question it.’_

* * *

 Things went back to normal quickly, the only tell that Harry had ever been in a coma was that everyone was treating him like he was made of spun glass, other than Creevey, who questioned him about everything. It seemed like every student had come to ask him if he was alright at least once, and even the portraits and ghosts had, though Harry suspected Sir Nick just wanted to invite him to his five-hundredth death-day on Halloween.

Shadow agreed before he even had a moment to think about it. They invited Draco to come along with them, and though he was reluctant, he did agree.

* * *

 Harry, Draco, and Shadow all showed up to the death-day party wearing their warmest robes and with snacks tucked in their pockets. The room had black candles burning with a blue flame, and black velvet draped across a stage on which a ghostly orchestra played screeching and quavering notes.

It was definitely a death-day party. They wandered around a little, careful not to step through any of the hundreds of pearly, translucent apparitions. They spotted Peeves, standing out like a sore thumb, Moaning Myrtle the bathroom ghost moping in the corner, the Bloody Baron was being given a wide berth by the other ghosts, and the Fat Friar was talking with a ghostly knight.

Sir Nick drifted towards them through the crowd.

“Enjoying yourselves?”

“Oh, yes,” Shadow took point “I didn't know there were this many ghosts around!”

“Not a bad turnout,” said Sir Nick proudly.

“The Wailing Widow came all the way up from Kent … It’s nearly time for my speech, I’d better go and warn the orchestra …” The orchestra, however, stopped playing at that very moment. They, and everyone else in the dungeon, fell silent, looking around in excitement, as a hunting horn sounded.

“Oh, here we go,” said Nearly Headless Nick bitterly. Through the dungeon wall burst a dozen ghost horses, each ridden by a headless horseman. The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor and halted, rearing and plunging; a large ghost at the front, whose bearded head was under his arm, blowing the horn, leapt down, lifted his head high in the air so he could see over the crowd (everyone laughed) and strode over to Sir Nick, squashing his head back onto his neck.

“Nick!” he roared. “How are you? Head still hanging in there?” He gave a hearty guffaw and clapped Sir Nick on the shoulder.

“Welcome, Patrick,” said Nick stiffly.

“Live ’uns!” exclaimed Sir Patrick, spotting Harry, Draco, and Shadow, and giving a huge, fake jump of astonishment, so that his head fell off again (the crowd howled with laughter).

“Very amusing,” said Nearly Headless Nick darkly.

“Don’t mind Nick!” shouted Sir Patrick’s head from the floor.

“Still upset we won’t let him join the Hunt! But I mean to say – look at the fellow –”

“The Hunt? What's the Hunt?”

“Why, the Headless Hunt, of course! Nick wanted to join, but he's only nearly headless. There are many games that he just wouldn't be able to take part in.” Sir Patricks sigh sounded like one of Shadows; mocking.

Sir Nick tried to recapture the attention of the crowd, but the orchestra started playing again and everyone took to the dance floor.

“Sir Nick, we would love to stay for a little while longer, but we need to get to the feast. We'll see you later.” The trio headed back towards the Hall.

“I regret saying yes. It was cold, and I'm hungry, but I don't think I can eat. Did you see the food?” Draco sounded very disgruntled.

"Why did we even go?"

"I'd hoped for something more... not sure what exactly, but... more."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waking up to so many comments made my week, despite the terrible headache and dizziness I had. I think I've put the right chapter in the right place now.

The three of them made their way towards the great Hall, nibbling on the crackers and chocolate they had in their pockets.

 _*...I'm… sorry…*_ Harry stopped.

“Draco, Shadow, did you just hear something?”

“No?”

“Nope. What was it?”

“A voice… it sounds like it's in the walls.”

“Wonderful, what direction is it heading? We should follow it.” there was not a moment of hesitation in Shadows voice. Harry turned to Draco who shrugged.

They followed the voice, jogging to keep up with it. They followed it up the stairs and down a deserted corridor, towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Something was hanging from a torch bracket further down.

“I don't know if should go ne-” Shadow cut off Draco's doubts by walking down and picking up the hanging object.

“Yo Harry, Mrs Norris is all petrified and shit! Come see this!” Harry walked over, taking a look at the foot high writing on the wall.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

“We need to find Professor Snape.” Draco couldn't completely hide the quaver in his voice, while Shadow looked like she was going to explode with happiness.

“When I said I wanted a Basilisk, I didn't expect one to come to me! Breeding them is totally illegal, but having one isn't!”

“Wait, it isn't?”

There was the sound of hundreds of shoes slapping against the ground, and into the corridor came a massive crowd of students, talking loudly. Their talk came to a complete stop.

“What’s going on here? What’s going on?” Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror. “My cat! My cat! What’s happened to Mrs Norris?” he shrieked. And his popping eyes fell on Draco.

“You!” he screeched, “You! You’ve murdered my cat! You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll –”

“Honestly mate, she ain't fucking dead. She's just petrified. A Mandrake Restorative Draught should fix her right up.”

The crowd split, and Dumbledore arrived, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry and Draco, and taken Mrs Norris from Shadow.

“Come with me.” Harry had to resist flinching when Lockhart offered to let them use his office. He felt Shadow press herself against his arm, giving comfort.

* * *

 Dumbledore spent more than a few minutes examining Mrs Norris in Lockhart's office before finally straightening.

“She's been Petrified. But how, I cannot say...”

“Can I say I told you so? Because I really told you so. People should listen to me more often.”

“It was him! He did it! Ask him how!” Filch screeched, pointing at Draco.

“Mr Malfoy? If there's something you need to tell us…” Draco's jaw dropped, and Harry blinked.

“I didn't do this! I never touched Mrs Norris!”

“He did! He did! You saw what he wrote on the wall! He knows I'm a squib!”

“If I might speak, Headmaster,” said Snape from the shadows, and Harry nearly smiled. Snape was quite fond of Draco.

“Mr Malfoy and his… friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's unlikely a second year could do such a spell.”

“Severus, you have to admit we have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why were they in the upstairs corridor at all? Why weren’t they at the Hallowe’en feast?” McGonagall was really starting to irritate Harry.

Draco launched into an explanation about the Deathday Party,

“… there were hundreds of ghosts, they’ll tell you we were there –”

“But why not join the feast afterwards?” interrupted McGonagall

“Why go up to that corridor?”

“Because we were tired and wanted to go to bed.” Harry said.

“Without any supper?” said McGonagall, a suspicious look passing across her face. “I didn’t think ghosts provided food fit for living people at their parties.”

Harry shuddered convincingly, and Draco turned slightly green.

“They don't.”

Shadow turned to the teachers and rolled her eyes.

“These two decided they couldn't eat much after seeing all that rotten food. We brought some crackers and chocolate with us, and nibbled on that.” she took a bite from one of her crackers, proving her point. Dumbledore sighed tiredly.

“You may go.”

“Actually Professor, we'd like to talk to Professor Snape about something.” out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Lockhart's eyes narrow.

“What about?” his voice was flat.

“It's not really any of your business, but Neville Longbottom. Apparently Professor Snape has some concerns that we would like to put to rest, as Neville's friends.” Shadow tone was challenging.

“Come to my office then. Minerva, Albus, Lockhart.” He nodded to the professors and swept out of Lockhart's office, robes billowing and snapping behind him. Harry, Draco, and Shadow hurriedly followed.

* * *

 They headed into the dungeons and into Snape's office. Harry could see Shadow eyeing the jars lining the walls with interest.

“You wish to speak to me about Longbottom?” Snape's face showed no emotion.

“Actually, we need to talk to you about something much more important.” Shadows words were quiet and serious. Snape frowned.

“Gilderoy Lockhart is is a pedophile. Probably a child molester too, if not a rapist.” Snape jerked back.

“You better have proof to back up such a serious accusation.” He was practically spitting. Shadow took Harry's hand and smiled. Harry looked Snape right in the eye.

“You're a legilimens, are you not? Go ahead, you have my permission.” Snape looked extremely suspicious, but turned to Draco, who nodded

“I told them. I'm getting father to look into any other v-victims Lockhart may have had.” Draco's voice cracked slightly. Snape took a moment to collect himself, then pointed his wand at Harry and uttered the incantation.

* * *

 A few minutes later, they resurfaced from the memory and Snape sat down heavily in his chair.

“I knew he was a fraud, but I didn't know about this. We must assume he Obliviated the rest of his victims. He used it on you, how are you able to remember this?” Harry smiled sheepishly.

“Obliviate doesn't work on skilled Occlumens.” it was true… just not exactly what happened.

“Occlu-” Snape sighed, closed his eyes, and massaged the bridge of his nose.

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

“No, we weren't sure if any of the teachers would believe us. We only went to you because Draco suggested it.” Snape's fury was plain on his face, directed most likely at McGonagall and Dumbledore.

“I understand. Draco, you said your father was looking into this?”

“Yes. I sent him a letter asking him to look for any more victims he might have had. Once father can find some, we'll report him. For now, we want to keep an eye on him, and not leave any students alone near him.” it was impressive how even he managed to keep his voice.


	7. Chapter 7

To Harry's amusement, Shadow spent months searching for the Basilisk, growing increasingly frustrated at the thought of losing it. Creevey stepped up his stalking, and they knew he was skipping classes to follow Harry. The Weasel, who had been shockingly quiet that year, kept his head down still. Lucius Malfoy had managed to hunt down seven of Lockhart's possible victims, and one confirmed. Snape started taking more points from Gryffindor as the months went by, his anger obviously growing.

He had placed monitoring Charms on the DADA classroom and Lockhart's office, which had fortunately not been triggered, but when he had gone to Dumbledore about Lockhart, his accusations were pushed aside. Harry knew exactly which day that was, by the points taken from Gryffindor. Harry found himself flinching often, the… event… affecting him more than he had expected. Shadow seemed to be concerned, but he shook it off.

Snape had, at least, become less hostile towards Shadow and Harry, though he was still disapproving of their entire existence. Harry wasn't sure what exactly had made Snape become so tolerant, be it the Lockhart situation or Harry's apparent change in attitude, but either way it was appreciated.

It was actually by Snape's suggestion that they were attending the new duelling club at all. Snape had mentioned to Draco “in passing” that he would be leading a duelling club with Lockhart, and that he would probably be showing off some strong spells against Lockhart.

So, everyone was standing in the great Hall, listening to Lockhart puff himself up. Shadow was trying to subtly get between Harry and Creevey, who was trying to crush himself against Harry. Harry could see the dark excitement in Snape's eyes at the opportunity he was being presented. The two Professors got into position, bowed, and Snape let fly a thunderous stunning spell. Harry had to smile as Lockhart flew across the room, hitting the ground with a sickening crack. The crowd gasped.

“Apologies, I assumed you were going to block it.” Snape's drawling voice was dripping with amusement. Lockhart pushed himself up with a groan.

“No need to apologise! I wanted to let you give the class a demonstration, I just didn't expect you to hit so hard!” Snape's face darkened “First two rules of duelling, my dears, never underestimate your opponent and don't hold back! Why don't we all start simple, with the disarming charm?”

Everyone paired up, and the “duels” started. Instead of disarming spells being thrown, there were jinxes hitting the walls and some unlucky students were suffocating from laughter, or unable to stop dancing. Harry and Hermione didn't join in, despite Creevey's encouragement. Shadow wasn't good in those sorts of situations. Lockhart started screaming for everyone to stop, but it took a “finite” from Snape to end the mayhem.

“I think I better teach you how to blocks spell first. How about Malfoy and Potter? Like this!” he attempted to demonstrate the spell, but dropped his wand. Harry climbed onto the stage, ignoring Shadows snickers. He also saw Snape whispering in Draco's ear.

Harry and Draco bowed, then let loose their first spells.

“Serpensortia!” Harry couldn't help but blink. Not what he had expected from Draco; that must be Snape's influence. So the teacher still mostly hated him. The blond did look apologetic. Lockhart attempted to remove the snake, but only managed to fling it into the air and angering it. It rose up ready to attack a first year Hufflepuff, Justin Finch-Fletchley. Harry stepped in front of him, ready to command the snake if it really came to it.

There was a squeal, and Shadow picked up the snake, hugging it close.

“Isn't it so cuuuuute!? Can I keeeeep it?” of course Shadow had no fear of being bitten.

“Now, Miss Granger, let us remove it.” at least Lockhart sounded a little worried. Shadow gave him a long look, then turned and started to walk out of the hall.

“If Ronald Weasley has a rat, and Lee Jordan has a Spider, I can have a snake!”

‘ _Quick thinking, Shadow. We can banish it later.’_

_‘Oh I wasn't joking. I really want to keep it.’_

_‘No. It's not real, Shadow, and you aren't a Parselmouth.’_

_‘I'm not real either!’_

_‘You know you are. You can't keep the snake.’_

_‘I hate you.’_

Ignoring Shadow, Harry turned to Justin.

“Are you okay, Justin? That probably gave you a fright. If you want, we can go to the hospital wing and get a calming Draught.” The younger boy… blushed?

“I-I’m okay.”

* * *

The next time Harry saw Justin, he was lying petrified in a corridor next to an equally petrified Sir Nick. Because classes had been cancelled, he'd been wandering with Shadow, who had dragged him along to look for the Basilisk. (She wasn't giving up.)

“We missed it! It was right here, and we missed it! Dammit!” she sounded close to tears.

“ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!” Harry half-turned and saw a horrified Peeves hovering being them.

At his scream, doors along the corridor started slamming open. McGonagall came running from her own class, and with a loud “bang” from her wand, restored silence. She ordered everyone back to their classes. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra carried Justin to the the hospital wing and Sir Nick was blown upstairs with a massive fan, while Harry and Shadow were led to the Headmasters office.

 _‘Aw shit. Caught by the body, twice_!’

Harry and Shadow sat in the office, staring at the half plucked turkey sitting on a perch.

‘ _No Shadow. You can't have a phoenix.’_

_‘Ruin all my fun, why don't ya. Oh, look look! Watch it, watch it! It's gonna buuuurn!’_

As though responding to Shadow, the phoenix burst into flames. Moments later, the headmaster walked in.

“Your bird burst into flames in its own. We didn't do it.”

 _‘You're getting the hang of this, Shadow. You're still terrible at looking muggleborn, but better_.’

“Oh, no need to worry. He's a phoenix, they do that from time to time.” despite his reassurance, he looked put-off.

“Now Harry, about these attacks…”

 _‘What am I, chopped liver_?’

“Professor?”

“I don't think you did this. No, I truly believe that you are innocent. But if you are covering for anyone, or have anything to tell me…” Dumbledore gazed intently into Harry's eyes, and he felt the brush of Legilimency.

_‘Does he believe that Draco is the heir?’_

_‘Oh my God, I hope so. That would be hilarious_!’

“No, Professor! I have no idea who's been attacking students. I would tell you if I knew!” Harry allowed himself an inward smirk as Dumbledore's probe met his false persona and fell back.

Occlumency is difficult to learn, but having someone in your head constantly made you learn fast. Once Harry and Shadow learned that occlumency was even a thing, they were able to expand on their already proficient skills.

Dumbledore finally turned his gaze on Shadow.

“Miss Granger? I've heard from the staff that you are extremely intelligent, and top of every class. Do you know who or what may be attacking students?”

_‘Oh stop it, you're making me blush! God he's manipulative, isn't he?'_

_'Nothing is proven.'_

“No Professor. I've been trying really hard to find something that fits, but the few theories I had were thrown out the door when Sir Nicholas got petrified. I don't know of anything that could manage this!” After a moment, the headmaster sighed and dismissed them.

* * *

 The whole castle was in a tizzy, blaming Draco for the petrifications, for some reason. Everyone was rushing to book seats on the Hogwarts Express, wanting to leave school as soon as possible.

The two weeks of holidays were quiet, except for Shadows constant moaning of boredom. There were no more whisperings from the Basilisk, and no more students were found petrified. The next student found petrified was found just before a Quidditch match after valentine's. Draco. At least the student body didn't believe he was the heir anymore.


	8. Chapter 8

__

Shadow seemed torn, but Harry had his priorities straight. While Shadow couldn't decide whether she should hunt down and rip the Basilisk to shreds, or carry on trying to claim it, Harry knew that it would most likely need to die.

A few days later, they heard that Hagrid had been arrested and taken to Azkaban. There wasn't a single student that wasn't shocked. Then, to terrify the students even more, Dumbledore had disappeared to Merlin knows where.

The final straw for Harry came when he felt a strange tug. Shadow wasn't replying to him. Harry headed straight to the staff room, (despite the command to return to their dorms) hoping to catch Snape. If anyone could hunt her down, it would be him. Harry arrived at the staff room just in time to hear McGonagall's voice.

“It has happened,” she told the silent staff room. “A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself.” Harry felt frozen. Professor Flitwick let out a squeal.

“How can you be sure?” Snape's voice sounded strained.

“The heir of Slytherin left another message. Right underneath the first one. Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.” Professor Flitwick started sobbing. Harry saw Lockhart's coming down the hall, and slid into a shadow, casting a disillusionment spell.

“Who is it? Which student?”

“Hermione Granger. We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow,” said Professor McGonagall. “This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…” Lockhart burst in, opening the staff-room door with a bang.

“So sorry – dozed off – what have I missed?” his voice was overly bright.

“Just the man,” Snape spat “The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last.” Lockhart blanched.

“That’s right, Gilderoy,” chipped in Professor Sprout. “Weren’t you saying just last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”

“I – well, I –” spluttered Lockhart.

“Yes, didn’t you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?” piped up Professor Flitwick

“D-did I? I don’t recall …”

“I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn’t had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested,” said Snape. “Didn’t you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?”

“I … I really never … You may have misunderstood …”

“We’ll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy.” even McGonagall was tired of his bullshit. “Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We’ll make sure everyone’s out of your way. You’ll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last.”

“V-very well,” he said. “I’ll – I’ll be in my office, getting – getting ready.” And he left the room. When he did, Harry saw how horrified he looked.

 _‘Serves him right. Can't have him dying yet, though_.’

“Right,” said Professor McGonagall “that’s got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories.” Harry started to walk away, mind blank.

He decided to risk it. He took a peek inside his head, not daring to close himself off from the world completely. He saw Shadows figure, flickering in and out in his mind, mouthing words he couldn't understand. There was a sense of vertigo, before he got a glimpse of the door to Moaning Myrtle's toilet. He left his mind, noticing how dark it had become.

* * *

 As he entered the bathroom, Harry could hear Myrtle sobbing. She came out of her stall, and started to complain.

“Come to teas-”

“How did you die?” He had no time to deal with her feelings, his suspicions already forming. Instead of looking upset though, she looked flattered. She told him her story, about the yellow eyes she saw at the sink.

* _Open_ * it was all he could do. Thankfully, that was all that was needed. The chamber entrance slid open, and he leapt. He walked through the chamber, holding a ball of light in his hand. He came into a massive room, filled with massive pillars. He kept walking, and finally saw Shadow, lying limp on the ground. He gave her a little shake.

“She won't wake.” Harry stood calmly, and turned to the voice.

“Who are you?” Harry's voice was cold. There stood a boy, with dark hair and green eyes, dressed in Slytherin robes. He wasn't a student currently at Hogwarts, however.

“I'm Tom Riddle.”

“Did you take her?” his eyes narrowed dangerously, and the boy, Tom, looked nervous.

“No, no, not me. I'm just as much a prisoner as her.”

“Then who took her?”

“I did.” there was a small, high pitched voice, and a boy stepped into the light, a book in his hands. Harry blinked.

“Colin Creevey? What? You aren't the heir of Slytherin.” Harry had no idea what was going on.

“Of course not. But he is.” Creevey gestured to Riddle. “He opened the chamber last time. And technically this time too.” That didn't clear Harry's confusion at all. He took a page from Shadows book.

“Okay, start from the top. What - Is - Happening?” Creevey looked delighted to be explaining.

“This is Tom Riddle. He's the heir of Slytherin, and was the one that opened the chamber 50 years ago. While at school, he thought it was a great idea to split his soul in two and hide half in a diary. I just happened to come across this diary (he have the little book a shake) and found something very, very interesting. I can control it! So I asked him nicely to open the chamber again. Isn't it wonderful?” Harry felt anger.

“Why? Why did you open the chamber? Why did you paralyse Justin? Draco? Sir Nick? Why Miss Norris? And why did you take Hermione? This makes no sense!” Creevey's face went dark, and Riddle flinched slightly.

“They were in the way. Couldn't you see them, sucking up to you? Pretending to be friends, but then barely spending time with you? Justin had a crush on you, you know. He followed you everywhere. And Draco spent more time with his other friends, only spending time with you when he felt like it! Miss Norris was just a test, and Nearly Headless Nick was a mistake, but Hermione, oh Hermione. Constantly clinging to you, hanging off your every word. It was disgusting! She didn't deserve you!” Riddle looked sick. Harry felt sick. Something about this was worse than Lockhart.

“What are you doing to her?” Creevey's face lit up.

“The diary was designed to feed off the magic of anyone that has it, to make itself stronger. I'm just giving it a meal.” The diary, the soul jar, was eating her. Harry flicked his wand, attempting to stun Creevey, but Riddle blocked it.

“I'm sorry, Harry. He's told me to protect him; I can't disobey.”

“Let it out. The snake. Let it out!” Creevey sounded manic. Riddle looked pained.

 _*Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four_.*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact:  
> Double double toil and trouble is stuck in my head.  
> At least it isn't the Hogwarts song.

The mouth of a giant carved head opened, and out came the Basilisk.

 _*I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I can't disobey…*_ even the Basilisk was unwilling. When the hell had the year gone to such shit? Last year was nowhere near as bad.

“Don't kill him! Just hold him!” Harry thought fast, but couldn't think of a single way to get past both the Basilisk and Riddle. So instead, he dived on Shadow. He hit the ground hard as he felt Her join him. He grit his teeth, trying not to scream, but he couldn't hold it in. He could feel tears dripping down his cheeks. God it hurt. He rarely felt pain, and this was the worst kind. There was a reason mirrors were so important. Imagine the feeling of having your skin tore apart by thousands of tiny shards of glass, having your organs twisted and torn, having a stinging cold burn through your entire body. He couldn't help but wonder if the cruciatus curse was similar.

Lying panting on the floor, shaking from the pain aftershocks, he could feel the diary eating away at his magic. At least it wasn't completely consuming Shadow anymore. Through his tears, he saw both Creevey and Riddle go still with shock. Taking a final risk, Harry reached inside, something he was doing way too frequently. He felt the diary’s link to him, and followed it. He came across a new link, one connecting to Creevey. With a massive surge of power, he cut both connections. He immediately felt faint, too magically spent to keep his eyes open.

* * *

 When Harry came to, he found himself sitting on the floor, cross legged, talking to the Basilisk.

“-so we now own a dragon! If you want, I can totally smuggle her dow- Shadow. Please don't possess me. You're liable to accidentally injure me.”

_‘You're awaaaaake! Finally! Are you okay? How do you feel? Are you tired?’_

_‘I'm fine, Shadow. My magic will regenerate.’_

He took a look around the room. Riddles diary few metres away, and Creevey was on the other side of the room, slumped against a wall.

 _‘He was like that when I woke up. I tried to smack him awake, but he's totally out cold. I think Suzie, the basilisk, whacked him one_.’ Harry rose and picked up Riddle's diary, promising himself that he'd write in it sometime. He still didn't understand everything that had happened.

He turned towards the Basilisk slightly, careful not to look at its head.

_*You said you couldn't disobey. Are you going to attack any more students?*_

_*Speaker..?- no- no! I was bred to protect the castle from attacks! To protect the students!*_

_*How do I leave the chamber? And do you have a name?*_

_*My name is Daskara.*_

Dusk (Harry refused to call him Suzie, and Shadow really wanted to name him) showed him, and he was interested to see the pipe he had entered from become a set of winding stairs up. He offered to let the Basilisk stay in the “Habitat”, but he wanted to stay in the Chamber. It was then time to figure out what to do with Creevey.

* * *

 Harry sat in the headmasters office, Shadow next to him. Creevey was in the hospital wing, unconscious as Madam Pomfrey set about healing his injuries. Dusk hadn't injured him badly, but once he had woken up Shadow had taken a crack at him. Harry had decided to let her have a minute to get a little revenge. She had a lot of bottled anger.

In front of them, there was a strange rooster-snake hybrid, dead on the headmaster's desk. McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore stared at it.

“A Cockatrice… of course…” McGonagall breathed. Dumbledore nodded.

“It should have been obvious. You say Creevey wanted to petrifying anyone that was close to you?”

“Y-yes. He wanted t-to get personal revenge on H-Hermione though. He dragged her i-into the forest. I'm sorry I went in there, but I couldn't leave her!” Harry made his voice crack. Shadow ducked her head next to him.

“It's okay, Harry. You just wanted to protect your friend. I'm just glad to know that there wasn't truly a chamber. It is upsetting that Hagrid was blamed for opening the chamber, when it was really a wild animal, however.” He sighed.

“Once Mr Creevey wakes up, we can report this to the ministry. Hopefully they can sort this. You can go to bed.” Harry and Shadow rushed down the passage to wait for Snape. They needed to talk about Lockhart.

* * *

 “We need to report him, now. With Lockhart gone from Hogwarts, we can't keep an eye on him. How many possible victims has Mr Malfoy found?”

“More than twenty. Once the ministry hears about this, they'll get a mind healer to check them all. I'll send a letter to Lucius, and he can report it.”

“Good.”

* * *

 Once Creevey woke up, a team of Aurors came to pick him up. They also asked if Harry, Draco, Justin, and Hermione could go with them. They wanted the issue dealt with as soon as possible, though there was another reason for Harry to go to the ministry. Lockhart had been caught, and they wanted to get that over with too. Having the boy-who-lived involved sped things up noticeably.

They started with Creevey. The Aurors asked them all to explain what they knew separately, then the court gathered. Everyone already knew how it was going to end, especially with Creevey's confession, so it was only a formality. It took barely any time for the court to vote for Creevey's expulsion. His wand was snapped, and he was sent to St Mungos for a psych evaluation. Then it was the big case.

Harry was asked to explain in private to a female Auror what had happened, but he instead gave them a slightly modified memory. He kept his eyes wide and his face blank, wanting to seem in shock. Then, the Wizengamot gathered. Normally, it would take much longer, and be a much bigger process, but they rushed it, hoping to keep the news of Harry's near rape quiet.

The statements of more than twenty other victims were read, (as questioning them was decided to be too harsh) along with the mind healers confirmations of truthfulness, and then a pensieve was bought in. Harry's memory was viewed, and confirmed to be unaltered. It was convenient how they went about it; looking for only the most obvious of modifications. Harry looked around the attending witches and wizards, Snape's hand on his shoulder. He saw varying levels of disgust, horror, and sadness in nearly everyone's eyes, even the reportedly cold Mr Malfoy looked sick, though there was one witch, a squat, toad-like lady, who didn't seem upset in the least.

 _‘Even Dark Lords are against rape and pedophilia… fucking hell she's evil. She practically smiled when she saw your memory_.’

The viewing ended, and a break was called for everyone to calm down. There were a few witches that had broken down into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God the ending sounds really rushed, like really REALLY bad. It didn't take long (only a few thousand scrapped words, literally) to figure out I can't write these sorts of scenes. Yeah. Damn.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half seems bad but is VERY important (and it's kind of meant to be bad, for once)... and the second half feels like expositions but... oh well

 

The Wizengamot left the chamber, taking a break to recollect themselves. It was an understandably upsetting case, and there were some tears from the gathered witches. Harry, Snape, and Mr Malfoy claimed a room. There was a tense silence between them, no one knowing what to say.

“Pot- Harry… are you okay?”

“Absolutely, Professor. He didn't actually manage to rape me, and now he's either going to Azkaban or getting the Kiss. Why wouldn't I be okay?”

 _‘Fucking hell, Harry, you know that's not the usual reaction_!’ and sure enough, Snape and Mr Malfoy blanched.

“You aren't exactly what I expected.” Mr Malfoy sounded cautious.

“I'm glad, Mr Malfoy. I suspect your expectations were quite low.” He did look suitably embarrassed.

“Mr Malfoy, Professor Snape, Draco trusts you both immensely. Should I do the same?”

‘ _You know, I really appreciate it when you discuss this sort of stuff with me.’_

_‘I have been with you for years. I know you.’_

“I hope so, Mr Potter.” Mr Malfoy's reply was firm.

“Wonderful. Do you know a spell to conjure a mirror?”

_‘Woah woah wait what? It took more than a year to trust Draco with this, why are you showing his dad and Snape immediately!? Last year we agreed that no one needed to know! I was fine with us telling our friends because we know them, but we can't trust these two!’_

_‘It will be fine. I want us to have a mutual trust_.’ Snape conjured a handheld mirror with a quick word, dark eyes curious. Harry took note of the incantation. He took the mirror when it was passed to him, and touched the glass slightly.

 _‘You know I hate small mirrors_.’ Shadow grumbled. Out of the mirror and onto Harry's wrist came a small, pure white snake with red eyes. She was definitely trying to scare the adults. Snape went ramrod straight and Mr Malfoy readied his wand. Without reacting, Harry held out his arm, and the snake twisted. Standing next to Harry was Hermione, wearing her Gryffindor uniform. Exhaustion hit Harry like a freight train.

Snape and Mr Malfoy stared.

“Granger is an animagus?” disbelief was apparent in Snape's voice. Shadow giggled.

“Oh I wish, that would be so much easier than all this. Would have appreciated a full length mirror though, it takes a lot of magic from Harry to let me change shape.”

“Explain.”

 _‘People get so irritated when they don't understand something_.’

“Well I don't exactly have the fuck ton of magic Harry does. He can spare some. And yeah, change shape. You didn't think I actually looked like this, did you?” her tone was mocking. “Mirrors are just a convenient way to get around. Anything reflective can be used. Or well, technically anything that isn't in true darkness can be used, but that's kind of dangerous. I don't recommend it.”

“Why show us? This seems like a rather large secret.”

“Oh it is. Harry just wants some sort of mutual trust bullshit. I say we shouldn't trust you, but he's the boss. He wouldn't even let me mutilate Lockhart.” Mr Malfoy looked curious, while Snape still refused to show emotion. Then, the break was over.

* * *

Basically trapped in her Hermione form, Shadow ended up entering the chamber with Harry. The Wizengamot called in Lockhart to watch the vote, and only the squat toad witch didn't vote for the Dementors kiss. Lockhart's face fell, as he finally seemed to realise his mistake.

Harry and Shadow were asked to leave the room before the Dementor was brought in. Though he was disappointed to miss the Kiss (though not as much as Shadow, who still had a habit of threatening to dismember the former professor) Harry was glad that everything was sorted. Lockhart wouldn't be hurting anyone else.

* * *

Harry was less than impressed when he returned to Hogwarts for exams. The Prophet had published an article about Lockhart, which on its own would be fine, if the author Rita Skeeter hadn't broken the law and named Harry as one of his victims. To protect their privacy, the press wasn't able to give any details that may lead to the identification of the victims, yet Skeeter had blatantly ignored any shred of decency she may have possessed and outright written Harry's name.

He was getting pitying looks from left and right, and people were giving him a wide berth, probably thinking close proximity would upset him. And they were right. Despite Shadows insistence otherwise, he knew he shouldn't be upset, but he found himself on edge, jumping at shadows. He was careful not to let anyone but Shadow know his feelings.

He had to wonder how Rita had managed to get his name, as the Wizengamot had oaths in place to prevent this very thing. For the next week, Harry ignored the whispers that stopped when he passed by and politely accepted the hundreds of gifts sent by owl.

* * *

Harry sat on his bed, Shadow in his mind. He inked his quill and started to write.

 _‘Hello Tom_.’ He watched the ink sink into the page and disappear.

 _‘Hello. Who is this_?’ words seemed to fade in.

 _‘It's Harry, the boy from the chamber. I want to know how Creevey managed to control you, and why you opened the chamber fifty years ago_.’

 _‘You and your friend are okay? I felt a surge of magic, and then I was back in my diary_.’

 _‘We're fine. Please, explain what happened fifty years ago_.’

_‘I used a ritual, a very dark ritual, to split my soul. I stored half in this diary- that half is what you are talking to now. I am just a memory, a part of a soul, but it's easier to say “I”. Hogwarts it's a very big castle, with multitudes of secret rooms, passages, portraits, and traps. The suits of armour, for example. They are made to defend Hogwarts, just like the Basilisk was. When I used that ritual at school, I didn't realise what I was doing._

‘ _I alerted the schools defenses to the presence of something so dark that it needed to be destroyed. Me. It's fine to use dark magic at Hogwarts, Slytherin was known for it, but to use soul magic meant to split your very essence? I was a threat. So, the basilisk woke up. He would have hunted me down and destroyed me, if I hadn't been a Parselmouth. I was the last in the Slytherin line, making me the heir and the Basilisks master._

_‘I didn't ask Daskara, the basilisk, to hurt anyone, but I wasn't careful. I let him out- only once! I didn't realise that there was someone in the bathroom! After that, I closed the chamber again. I never even went near it. Headmaster Dippet blamed another student, Rubeus Hagrid, for killing the girl. He had an affinity with dangerous animals, so he was an easy target. I should have turned myself in, but I couldn't risk going back to the orphanage. I'm sorry.’_

Harry closed his eyes and took a breath. At least he had some more information.

 _‘How did Creevey manage to control you? Why is this diary even here? Wouldn't it be best to protect it?_ ’

‘ _That boy, he was a necromancer. They're meant to be rare, in the same category as Parselmouth, metamorphmagus, seers, and natural Legilimens. There are ways to mimic it, but he was the real deal._ ’ Shadow laughed.

 _‘Of course he was a necromancer. How damn convenient_.’

 _‘So your diary, why is it here_?’

‘Well’ There was a pause in the writing.

 _‘It was kind of a stupid plan_.’ He wrote slowly, and Harry groaned.

‘ _Apparently I- or my other half, split my soul again. I'm not actually sure how many Horcruxes -that's what the soul vessels are called- I now have. I had hoped my other half would be sane enough not to keep splitting our soul, but I was out of luck. Souls can be split infinitely, but each time you lose about half your soul. Eventually, you're left with barely a fraction left.’_

Harry's eyes narrowed.

 _‘No, you don't think_?’ Shadow sounded desperate.

 _‘That Tom Riddle is Voldemort, and that “mere shadow” we fought was the tiny fraction of soul he had left? Yes_.’ Tom kept writing.

‘ _I'm not aware of anything happening outside this diary, so it was a bit of a shock when someone wrote in it. They told me that they knew of another Horcrux- well they thought it was just an important magical item. They didn't even know what this diary was, or who I was. We made a really rushed and badly thought out plan to have me possess a student and find my other horcrux, then owl it to safety along with this diary.’_

Harry felt Shadow mentally nod.

 _‘He's right, that seems like a stupid plan_.’ Harry had to agree.

‘ _Who wrote in the diary?’_

 _‘He said his name was Lucius Malfoy, the son of someone I knew._ ’ Harry fell back onto his bed as Shadow laughed again.

 _‘This just gets better and better! Lucius basically got his own son petrified! I bet he's pretty upset about that._ ’

The year ended on a sour note, Harry being the centre of attention because of that damn article, and half of the Dark Lord Voldemort’s soul sitting in his trunk. Not to mention Shadow was still a little upset he'd told Malfoy and Snape about her. At least the Weasel hadn't even spoken to them once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done with this one. Stuff is starting to ramp up. It's gonna probably be a very long time; Bolt takes priority because it's everyone's favourite, and I'd like to get Phoenix caught up because it's hard enough jumping between personalities and world rules let alone YEARS.


End file.
